Realization

I used to be interesting.
I mean, I still think my daily life is rather thrilling and exhilarating, but it sure as shit ain't anything to write a book about! Which is why my blog up-dates are fewer and further between...
But the past twelve years! Now THAT was some crazy shit!
I kind of like the quiet stability and repition inherit in the constant interaction with my psychotic nieghbors and peaceful Over-the-Rhine / Cincy-arts-scene-saturated existance. And the sick, sick obsession with bicycles and their ability to save the world and absorb all of my free time.
The apartment beneath me, sadly, is no longer vacant. The new occupant of my building...is an Urban Sites maintenance man. And he is retarded. And he likes hookers.
The only one I've actually seen him with - and witnessed him pay - is a transvestite. A very young one.
The mac-daddy pimp who claims to be head of the Cincinnati Gang Prevention Task Force - and makes lots of $$$ doing it - lives beneath him.
I wonder if that works well for them?
Now, take a moment to guffaw and do your best retard impression. (C'mon - even the most PC of y'all has one!)
Now take that persona and moan erotically, with all the umph of a 50 year old man with down syndrome.
That is the noise that comes up through the vents in my apartment.
Well, when it's not drowned out by the pimp yelling at his women.
I lock my door more frequently now.
I really do have the best roof top in the city.